That only proved she’d never watched Big Uglies in action. They charged right past errors and misfortunes. If those left dead or maimed individuals in their wake-well, so what? To the Tosevites, results counted for more than the process used to obtain them.
Asking the Race to imitate that sort of behavior was probably useless. No, it was bound to be useless. The Race simply did not and could not operate the way the Big Uglies did. Most of the time, Ttomalss thanked the spirits of Emperors past for that. Every once in a while, as now, it made him want to curse.
“Years, you say?” he persisted. “Not centuries?”
“I still say it should be centuries,” Pesskrag replied. “It probably will not be, not with everyone pushing for speed at the expense of quality and safety, but it should be. There are too many variables we do not understand well. There are too many variables we do not understand at all.”
“Very well. I thank you.” Ttomalss broke the connection. He felt slightly reassured, but only slightly. Whatever the Race could do, the Tosevites were bound to be able to do faster. How much faster? That much faster? He despised the idea of preventive war, but…
All of a sudden, he stopped worrying about preventive war. That ginger-peddling female was on her way back. She had two large, unfriendly-looking males with her, one of them particularly bizarre with a mane of yellow hair that had never sprouted from his skin. Ttomalss did not wait to find out if their personalities belied their appearance. He left, in a hurry.
“Hey, buddy, wait! We want to talk to you!” the male with the wig shouted after him.
Ttomalss didn’t wait. He was sure the males-and that unpleasant female-wanted to do something to him. He was just as sure talking wasn’t it. He swung one eye turret back toward them. To his enormous relief, the males weren’t coming after him. The female wasn’t relieved at that. She was furious. She clawed the male with the yellow false hair. He knocked her to the sidewalk. They started fighting.
My own people, Ttomalss thought sadly. How are they any better than Big Uglies when they act like this? But the answer to that was plain enough. They were his. Like them or not, he understood them. He understood them even if they wanted to hit him over the head and steal his valuables.
If the Big Uglies hit him over the head and stole his valuables, they weren’t just robbers. They were alien robbers, which made them a hundred times worse.
And the Big Uglies wanted to hit the whole Race over the head and steal its valuables. Things had been peaceful and stable on Home for so long. It wouldn’t last. It couldn’t last, not any more. Maybe, once the Tosevites were gone for good, peace and stability would return… if anything was left of the Empire afterwards.
Existence or not-that is the question. So some Tosevite writer had put it. He’d been dead for hundreds of years, maybe even a thousand; Ttomalss didn’t know as much as he would have liked about Tosevite chronology before the conquest fleet came. But that Big Ugly had got right to the liver of things. If existence for the Race and the Empire seemed more likely after a preventive war, then preventive war there should be. If not, not. Ttomalss feared he knew what the answer was.
Karen Yeager nodded politely to Trir. “I greet you,” she told the tour guide.
“And I greet you,” Trir said, also politely. The female had acted friendly enough lately; it wasn’t close to mating season. Her eye turrets traveled up and down Karen’s length. “I had thought there might be some future in escorting you Tosevites when you come to visit Home. Now I see that is unlikely to be so.”
The hotel lobby was as warm as ever. Looking out through the big plate-glass windows, Karen could see the sun-blasted hills out beyond Sitneff. Despite all that, a chill ran through her. She hoped she was wrong as she asked, “What do you mean?”
“Why, that you Big Uglies probably will not be coming to Home any more, and that I cannot expect to see shiploads of students and travelers. We are going to have to put you in your place, or so everyone says.” Trir took the answer for granted.
More ice walked up Karen’s back. “Who told you that, if I may ask? And what do you mean by putting us in our place?”
“We shall have to make certain you cannot threaten the Race and the Empire.” By Trir’s tone, that would be not only simple but bloodless. She had lived in peace all her life. Home had lived in peace since the Pleistocene. Males and females here had no idea what anything else was like.
Karen did. For better and for worse-more often than not, for worse-Earth’s history was different from Home‘s. And the Race’s soldiers had played no small part in that history since the conquest fleet arrived. “You are talking about a war, about millions-more likely, billions-dying,” Karen said slowly. “I ask you again: who told you war was coming? Please tell me. It may be important.” She used an emphatic cough.
“Everyone around here except maybe you Tosevites seems to think it will come,” Trir replied. “And I do not think it will be as bad as you make it sound. After all, it will be happening a long way away.”
You idiot! Karen didn’t scream that at the Lizard, though she wanted to. She contented herself with making the negative gesture instead. “For one thing, war is no better when it happens to someone else than when it happens to you,” she said, though she knew plenty of humans would have felt otherwise. “For another, I must tell you that you are mistaken.”
“In what way?” Trir asked.
“This war, if there is a war, will ravage the Empire’s worlds as well as Tosev 3. That is a truth.” Karen added another emphatic cough.
“That would be barbaric!” Trir exclaimed, with an emphatic cough of her own.
“Why would it be more barbaric than the other?” Karen asked.
“Because this is the Empire, of course,” Trir answered.
“I see.” Karen hoped the Lizard could hear the acid dripping from her voice. “If you do it to someone else who is far away, it is fine, but it is barbaric if someone else presumes to do it to you right here.”
“I did not say that. I did not mean that. You are confusing things,” Trir said.
“I do not know what you meant. Only you can know that, down deep in the bottom of your liver,” Karen replied. “But I know what you said. I know what I said. And I know one other thing-I know which of us is confused. Please believe me: I am not the one.”
Trir’s tailstump quivered with anger. “I think you have it coming, for telling lies if nothing else.” She stalked away.
Karen felt like throwing something at her. That would have been undiplomatic, no matter how satisfying it might also have been. Karen thought hard about flipping Trir the bird. That would have been undiplomatic, too. She might have got away with it, simply because nobody here was likely to understand what the gesture meant.
And then, in spite of herself, she started to laugh. Could you flip somebody the bird here on Home? Wouldn’t you have to flip her (or even him) the pterodactyl instead?
However much she wanted it to, the laughter wouldn’t stick. That Trir seemed happy war would come was bad enough. That she seemed so sure was worse. And Karen muttered a curse under her breath. She hadn’t got the guide to tell her who among the Lizard higher-ups was so certain war was on the way.
Did that matter? Weren’t all the Lizards acting that way these days? She knew too well that they were. And if they acted that way, they were much more likely to bring it on.
An elevator opened, silently and smoothly. Everything the Race did was silent, smooth, efficient. Next to the Lizards, humans were a bunch of noisy, clumsy barbarians. But if they went down, they’d go down swinging, and the Empire would remember them for a long time-or else go down into blackness with them.